


A Place By Your Side

by stellacadente



Category: Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic
Genre: Blushing Quinn, F/M, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Others may show up too, Quinn angst, body image issues, body image issues ch 16 only, mental health
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-27
Updated: 2019-01-29
Packaged: 2019-03-24 21:00:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 11,692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13819362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stellacadente/pseuds/stellacadente
Summary: Random drabbles and Tumblr posts from asks and prompts





	1. Just Once More

**Life day**

No matter how far he got from home, no matter how many years she was absent, Quinn always marked Life Day. Not the way she had, with laughter and gifts and a costly and frankly wasteful spread of food. No, this year it would be as it had been since she left, alone in his room, with only a bottle of Corellian brandy – and a prayer. That just once before he died, he could see her again.

 _Pathetic_ , he knew.

Their first Life Day together they weren’t actually together. He was her captain, she was his lord. He’d given her “the speech” about duty. He had tried to transfer out, confessing his feelings were well past professional by then, and dangerous to them both. She reluctantly agreed, then smiled when he backed out, admitting her own feelings but accepting his reluctance. “Just know that I’m here,” was all he remembered, along with that smile. It was enough at the time.

They were on Tatooine, the least appropriate planet in the galaxy for Life Day. Vette had somehow rigged a holo projector onto a broken slingblaster to make it seem as though she was shooting snowballs at everyone and even Quinn had to admit he shrieked like a child when she lobbed the first one at him. By the time she’d logged a hundred hits or so, he barely noticed. Vette and his lord ran about in a most unprofessional manner, tossing pillows and singing, until Vette suggested that a Life Day party was what was called for. His lord immediately agreed and left the lodging for several hours, returning to inform everyone to put on their best clothes and meet her at one of the auxiliary buildings used by Imperial command in Mos Ila.

She had somehow procured a room with forced air and it was a relief for Quinn to be able to put on his dress uniform and not melt immediately into a puddle. She smiled as soon as he entered and handed him a heavy box covered in a lightweight fabric and tied with a flaxen string. Vette, too, had a box, large and flat and similarly adorned. There were others in the room as well – some officers from the nearby garrison and others he recognized as minor officials or functionaries, even the flight crew from the spaceport who looked after the  _Covenant_.

She was wearing a dark plum evening dress, cut low down her back and fit snugly on her frame. Her hair was down, covered in a barely visible, glistening net. Surely, she hadn’t just drummed all that up in the few hours she’d been gone. Must’ve had it stowed on the ship. Quinn realized he’d never seen her in any dress before, much less one that brought out her nascent beauty. He had always said she was a wholly unique woman.   

She bade everyone to eat and drink, and then they all had to open their boxes. Most of the junior officers appeared to have been given cred sticks – Quinn would have to make sure she hadn’t drained the ship’s financial reserves yet again – and the senior officers and various planetary officials received small trinkets that they all seemed delighted with, even if a few of them were likely faking it. Vette received a new tunic that she immediately changed into. Quinn was momentarily delighted when his gift turned out to be a bottle of aged Corellian brandy of a rare vintage.

 _Maker’s balls_ , he thought.  _I will really need to check the ship’s ledger now!_

She made everyone sing songs from wherever they called home until finally, she graced them with one of her Miralukan folk songs. The Miraluka always seemed such a contented culture, so it bugged Quinn why their songs all sounded so sad. He downed another mug of mulled wine – he would certainly save the brandy for another occasion. Though when she sidled up next to him and asked how he was enjoying the party, he had to confess with a smile as rare as the bottle in his hands that he was, surprisingly, quite happy at that moment. “Mission accomplished,” she whispered as she was whisked away into another group dance by one particularly star-struck young adjutant.

The night ended too soon, when the last of the locals stumbled out of the room into the crisp, brief Tatooine night. Somehow, the three of them made it back to their lodging. Quinn had intended to check the ship’s books before retiring but woke up the next morning, still in half his uniform, with just enough time to get to the refresher and into his clean uniform before his shift started.

Of course, he would figure out that she’d paid for the fete and the gifts out of her own funds, always as eager to make others happy as she was to jump into a fight without thinking. That same bravado that put her on that ship with Darth Marr. That took her away from him for four years now.

Whoever coined the phrase “alone but not lonely” should be shot, he thought as he drained his glass. His happiest days were behind him, of that he was sure, but he still had this ritual of remembrance. He would never forget her, even if it seemed the rest of the Empire had. 

He re-stoppered the bottle – odd, this year he apparently was unable to finish it – then walked the few steps from his desk to his cot, and fell into a mercifully dreamless sleep.

“ _Just once_   _more, Xhareen_ ” were, as with every year,  the last words on his lips.

 


	2. Out of Necessity

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cuddle prompt from Tumblr #1

_I like to imagine he tried to get out of Hoth duty not because of the cold, but because he expected something like this to happen. So of course, despite all his preparations, it did. This is pre-relationship but after they both realize feelings are being had:_

Xhareen tried her communicator again. Nothing. She scanned the horizon one last time.

“We aren’t going to find a suitable structure in time, are we, Captain?”

Quinn moved in closer to show her his datapad. “I’m afraid not, my lord. We’ll need to find some natural shelter. I suggest the mountain range to our west. We should be there in 15 minutes, with time to spare to find an unoccupied cave.”

The first two caves showed sign of recent habitation by manka cats; the third was clearly a wampa den, forcing them to walk well away from the ridge. That’s when they realized the small spire of rock at least a kilometer away from the wampa was of sentient construction.

“Probably a hunter’s blind,” Xhareen said. “Good enough for me. I’ll get a fire started.”

“No need,” Quinn said. “I have a … a thermal tent in the gear. As required by regulation. I could give you the citation if needed.”

Xhareen stifled a laugh. Even though his face was still fully covered, she knew he was blushing beneath his protective gear. They both knew the purpose of a thermal tent was to harvest the body warmth of its occupants, who would have to strip down to their thermal undergear and remain in full body contact.

“I trust you, Quinn. And I’m grateful. This way we can stay warm without drawing attention. And I’m sure you brought MREs as well.”

“Indeed,” he said, though with more trepidation than normal.

~~~~~

The tent was large enough that they could sit up, but only just. They removed their outerwear and laid it out for cushioning. Quinn calmed down as Xhareen let him activate the MREs, including two self-heating packs of tea. They discussed the relative merits of freezing to death versus their ordeals on Tatooine; even their exhalations served to warm up the enclosed space.

But the strain of getting lost and fighting the cold took its toll. Xhareen was ready for sleep shortly after they ate. The nights were short at this time during the Hoth year, and they would have to be back out trying to get their bearings and attempting to contact an Imperial outpost at first light. 

“We should rest now, Xhareen,” Quinn said, but he started to fidget. “We should, um, perhaps … it’s actually been scientifically proven to be effective if we maximize body contact by, well, lying side by side.”

“You mean spooning,” Xhareen said, as she stripped off the rest of her clothing, leaving nothing but the form-fitting unitard. “Actual partners have a word for it.”

That prompted one of his epic blushes. He flustered and tried to speak, but ended up just nodding. He helped her pull the foot coverings from the end of the pants legs and reminded her to pull up the hood to cover her head, all without looking directly at her face. 

“Perhaps I should just sit here all night, complimenting your various strengths, and letting your cheeks heat up the tent,” she said, as she helped him get completely covered as well.

That broke him down. He smiled and let out a small laugh. Then he flushed again. 

“My concern is that, when morning comes … I mean, these suits are skin-tight but it’s just biology and …”

Xhareen laid down on their assembled parkas and patted the space in front of her. 

“Don’t worry, Quinn. I’ll be the big spoon.”

 


	3. I'll Marry You, Quinn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cuddle prompt #2

_“I’ll marry you, Quinn.”_

As expected, Quinn had clearly prepared for this moment, and that Xhareen would accept his proposal. She never minded that he wasn’t spontaneous; his meticulous attention to detail had saved her life and her crew more times than she could count. He probably knew exactly how many times … and that thought always made her smile.

But what he had planned for her tonight she would never forget.

After she said yes, they kissed passionately and then Quinn handed her a datapad and showed her where to make her signature mark and where to apply her thumbprint. When he explained the details of a military marriage, she expected more forms would be required, but he assured her this was it. He might have given her more details, but all she could do was watch his face and listen to the tone and timbre of his voice. He’d never sounded so happy and all she wanted to do was swim in his joy.

Toovee showed up just then outside Quinn’s quarters – their quarters now – with a full Alderaanian festival plate. She tried as hard as she could not to scarf it down as fast as possible, because she wanted this moment to last forever, and certainly longer than her typical meal. 

When they were done, Toovee reappeared with flower tisanes, her favorite. He took the remains of the festival plate and was not seen again that night. Quinn beckoned her over to the bed.

“Darling, I feel remiss but I’m too full for that right now,” she protested, realizing only now that he’d eaten less than normal, allowing her to stuff her face. Surely, he wanted to celebrate their engagement properly, meaning carnally?

“Don’t fret, my love,” he said. “That was not what I had in mind, at least not yet. Finish your tea and come lie next to me on the bed.”

He didn’t even pull the covers down, but he lay on his back and she lay down with her head on his chest as he wrapped his arms around her. They stayed that way for several blissful moments before he spoke again. “I want you to feel safe and loved forever, darling, and I pray that someday we can settle down and raise a family, but I never want you to forget the stars.”

She raised her head to give him a look, but he just pointed to the ceiling. “Computer, dim the lights and begin playback,” he said.

She didn’t have time to think about what he was up to before the ceiling erupted into a universe of stars. First, it displayed their current flight path if they weren’t in hyperspace, he explained. Then, they visited the most beautiful nebulae across the galaxy.

For the finale, he retraced every trip they’d made since leaving Balmorra, then caught back up with their current flight path. 

He pulled her in close when she began to sob. “Thank you, Malavai. That was beyond words.”

She eventually calmed down, and they fell asleep, still wrapped in one another’s arms. 


	4. In Public

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cuddle Prompt #3
> 
> So in my universe, Xhareen and Quinn reunite between KOTFE and KOTET. Iokath and afterwards don’t happen, at least not right away. Xhareen declines to become empress, instead helping a battered Zakuul and other worlds of the Eternal Empire form a new type of government. After all Quinn went through, losing everything and trying to find Xhareen, I don’t think it’s a stretch to think he's now a lot less repressed and afraid of PDA.

They’ve put off this announcement for a few weeks – first, to share in the joy themselves, then with family, and then to avoid stealing attention from Xhareen’s sister Naveen’s debut at the newly constructed Spire Opera House, built on the grounds of the demolished throne room complex. 

Unlike her first pregnancy, Xhareen had a run of morning sickness that forced her to change her schedule several times. Fortunately, it was easy to cover by feigning other pressing matters. But she’d been without nausea for three days, and it was time to go public. Tonight’s gala – there were at least four a week, it seemed – would celebrate the opening of the sessions for drafting a constitution. Indo Zal, her closest adviser after Quinn and Lana, told her the birth metaphor would not be lost on the people.

Indo also made sure the event would be broadcast, scheduled for just long enough to be seen as important but not so long as to bore the populace, either. He also was concerned they wouldn’t be able to keep the secret much longer, even if she wasn’t showing yet.

She stood on the greeting line, chatted with almost everyone present, drank the synthetic bubbly Quinn made sure she was given – as he’d been doing for weeks, so as to avert suspicion – and finally it was time for her opening speech.

If anyone noticed how closely Quinn stood by her side, or how broadly he was smiling compared to his normal demeanor, no one said anything. Xhareen delivered the prepared remarks and then cleared her throat.

“People of Zakuul. You know my husband and I have made your home our home. Our family have all come here as well. We left what was behind behind us, and we look forward to the future that we all are making for ourselves and our children.

“So it is with great joy that Malavai and I announce that we are having a child. Our child will be Zakuulan, a union of the old Sith Empire and the ancient Eternal Empire, but like all of you, embarking on this journey together, something entirely new.”

She’d barely finished when Quinn came up and hugged her, spontaneously slipping his arms around her and pulling her close. The crowd grew increasingly louder in their cheers. They stayed together for several minutes, Quinn holding her close, rubbing his hands along the skin revealed by her open-backed gown. If he’d been reluctant to even hold hands in public before, no one would ever suspect that now.

He lifted her face and kissed her, and the crowd began to roar. A cynic might think it a calculated move, but it was clear, in those crystaline blue eyes of his, that suddenly they were the only two people in the galaxy.

Or, actually, the only three.


	5. Always Have a Plan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: "I have a plan, just follow my lead."
> 
> cw for claustrophobia mention

“Vette.”

“I know,” she said as she pried the lock access panel off the wall next to the storeroom door.

Xhareen paced back and forth. Vette cursed. That didn’t work, either.

“ _Vette_ ,” Xhareen said, a bit more emphatically this time.

“Don’t worry, I have a plan,” she whispered. “Just follow my lead if Captain Noseypants gets upset or freaks out or anything. I’ll be right back and have this fixed in no time.” She headed out of the cargo hold, toward the bridge.

Xhareen knocked on the door she had, just a few minutes ago, tried to pry open with her hands. Even using her Force strength, she could not defeat the lock holding it closed.

“Quinn, please tell me you’re not claustrophobic.”

“No worries my lord,” he said, sounding amazingly upbeat. “I was a smart boy with top grades in an Imperial boarding school. I’m quite used to this.”

Xhareen stifled a laugh. Vette’s plan to add an electronic seal to the food storage compartment had not worked out as intended. Xhareen felt bad for giving her the go-ahead without informing Quinn first that unscheduled movement in the pantry would trigger an electronic seal. 

“Vette didn’t mean to do this, you know.” Vette and Quinn had finally calmed down and all but given up on their sibling warfare. Xhareen was afraid this would break the peace for good.

“I am well aware. I actually applaud her for her initiative, even if I have assured her a hundred times that since we now adhere to strict Imperial quality control standards and loading protocols, there are no vermin on board the ship, and no way they could get on board.”

“Don’t worry, Captain. We’ll have you out of there in …”

The door swooshed open. Quinn emerged with a wide grin on his face, straightened his jacket and picked up the datapad he’d been using to take inventory.

“How did you do that?” Xhareen asked.

“Never fear, my lord. I, too, had a plan.”


	6. Relief is Like That

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: “I swear, it was like this when I got here." 
> 
> (pre-romance)

Quinn swore he wasn’t going to panic. Vette was doing her best to pretend she was calm, but he noticed a distinct increase in the pressure she applied every time she tapped a key or punched in code to the  _Covenant’s_  sensor systems. Jaesa was “meditating” so hard, Quinn swore he could hear the Force. Pierce – at least Pierce was honest about not being calm, pacing in the entryway and grumbling to himself the entire time.

Xhareen and Broonmark were more than an hour overdue for a check in. She had taken this job on Hoth to keep them out of Baras’ sights, though Quinn had been squarely against it and even Broonmark warned it was dangerous. But there were still members of the Hailstorm Brotherhood running around free, and she was going to meet with a contact who could put them on the trail of several of them. The bounty would be enough to keep the ship functioning for at least a month without having to tap into Xhareen’s personal accounts.

Quinn was just about to defy orders and send the crew to the coordinates of the meeting when he heard Vette cry out “HOLY CRAP!”

He ran over to her station. Without a word, she called up a holo. By this time, Jaesa was right behind them and Pierce had just gotten to the bridge.

The holo showed a massive avalanche near Whiterock Wastes, not far from where the meet was to take place.

“We’re going,” is all Quinn said. He went to the nav station and got the ship in the air just as Pierce took a seat.

~~~~~

Quinn saw Xhareen, standing beside six dead bodies, one of them the contact. She’d holstered one lightsaber, but still had her mainhand at the ready. Broonmark stood next to her, his vibrostaff still humming.

“It was a set up,” she shouted, as Quinn got off his speeder so fast he nearly tripped. He straightened his parka and adjusted his goggles and attempted to preserve some of his dignity as he walked up to the scene.

“What the kriff?” Jaesa and Vette said in unison, pointing at the devastation.

“That was their most recent hideout,” Xhareen explained. Turning to Quinn, she said, “And I swear, it was like this when I got here!”

Quinn wasn’t sure what to say about that. He didn’t want to call her a liar, but tearing down an entire hunk of planet was not outside her skill set.

“OK, well, we did enjoy a bit of the show,” she said. “Apparently, we weren’t the only ones chasing our quarry. My guess is that they got a little too cocky with some explosives. That’s when this lovely lot turned on us and we realized they were Brotherhood, too. They’re all on the list.”

Pierce stepped up to the rest of the group after scouting the immediate area.

“I hope this means we’ll be eating and drinking well tonight!” he said.

Quinn wasn’t sure he could, at this moment, keep anything down but a warm brandy. Or three. Relief was like that. 


	7. The Travelers Buffet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: That's Not How the Force Works!
> 
> cw this chapter for food, gross food, vomit mentions

**_The Travelers Buffet, Nar Shaddaa_ **

Vette was adamant.

“No, you can’t play. You cheat,” she told Xhareen.

“What do you mean, cheat? Either you eat something or you don’t. I can’t think of anything I’ve put in my mouth that I haven’t eaten,” Xhareen said.

And instantly regretted it. Pierce and Jaesa nearly choked in unison on their drinks. Quinn turned his typical shade of “crew shenanigans” red but said nothing.

“Ignoring your obvious attempt to sidetrack me with blatant sexual innuendos and moving on. It’s my turn for a crew challenge and I call ‘food dares’ with Xhareen as the judge,” Vette decreed.

She set out the rules: Everyone got a chance to pick the next food for everyone to eat. You get one pass; second pass, you’re out. If you hesitate longer than 15 seconds, you’re out. If it takes you longer than 1 minute to fully chew and swallow, you’re out. If you throw up, you’re out.

That last rule was easily enforceable since this was the infamous Travelers Buffet, where food tastes and traditions from across the galaxy were honored, including those that necessitated eating until one was overly full, ejecting said food, and starting again. Special devices were set up at certain tables to deal with this ritual and Vette had made sure to reserve one of them.

After a half hour, everyone was clearly filling up, such that even the most mildly revolting food was bound to get someone tossed out soon.

Pierce was the first to go. “This pickled rancor liver isn’t even fit for rancors to eat.” He excused himself and wasn’t seen for the next 15 minutes.

Jaesa fell next, surprisingly. She waved off the chasuka-wrapped spicy mynock wing and went to the back to lie down.

Vette was probably the most surprised that her rival now would be Quinn. He’d had one pass earlier for something, she couldn’t remember what because she was near to vowing never to eat solid food again.

Every gross thing on the menu or available by replicator, he ate. Strangely, though, he was choosing bland items like flutterplume egg bites, avocado toast and Smapp jerky. Child’s play!

Still, Vette was able to keep up, until the food delivery chute presented the one thing she could never consume: fermented eiderfish testicles. They were a Kaasian luxury. To Vette and most of the sensible sentients of the galaxy, they smelled like a sleen’s corpse left in the Tatooine sun, then rolled in rancor dung and left to rot in a Gamorrean’s dirty boot. She had no idea they would be available here; they weren’t on the menu she’d hacked before deciding to issue her challenge. She specifically searched for it, in fact.

Quinn had to have cheated. How, she had no idea, but somehow, Captain Slimeball had defeated her. She tapped the table. “I’m out. But to confirm the victory, Quinn, you have to eat that without barfing.”  

“Not a problem,” he said as he first consumed Vette’s portion, and then his own.

Pierce had returned from the refresher by now, and was actually cheering Quinn on. Xhareen had her hand over her mouth in disbelief. Quinn swallowed the second portion, then took a drink of water.

“OK, Captain Malodorous, you’re gonna sit here for five minutes and you’d better not hurl,” she said, praying she didn’t do the same.

“Wait! Those aren’t the rules, Vette,” Xhareen called out.

Quinn shook his head. “No, my lord, it’s fine. I have not overindulged, nor am I in any danger of ‘ _hurling_ ,’ ” he said with just a slight sneer in Vette’s direction.

The longer they sat there, the madder Vette got. She had planned this out, planned all her strategy, planned on a victory for herself. She wasn’t happy to admit Captain Disgusting had beaten her at her own game and was sitting there, so smug and so not vomiting.

“Hey, my lord,” she said to Xhareen, “can’t you, like, do a Force choke on his stomach or something?” She didn’t really care that Quinn heard her, or that he cracked a smile when she said it.

Xhareen, after she stopped laughing, put her arm around Vette’s shoulder. “My dearest friend, that’s not how the Force works!”

And whether it was for spite or solidarity, Xhareen ordered a round of the eiderfish for herself.

Which, despite the accommodations at the table, sent Vette running for the fresher.


	8. Alternate Meeting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: OC's ship breaks down
> 
> Alternate meeting on Balmorra

When the smoke cleared, Xhareen pushed aside the table that had flown into where she had been sitting with Vette, having a drink of flat ale with some stale snack foods. She didn’t want to meet her contact on an empty stomach so they’d stopped at the least objectionable vendor in the large open area near the front of the Sobrik spaceport.

But someone, probably the rebels who were hellbent on taking the planet from the Empire, had detonated a powerful explosive near the commons area, leaving total chaos in its wake.

Xhareen made sure Vette was OK. “Let’s get back to the ship. Perhaps we should head back to the orbital station until this mess is sorted,” Xhareen told her.

“You don’t have to tell me twice, my Sithy friend,” Vette said.

They headed back to the ship, which took a few minutes. Fortunately, they were docked on the opposite side of the spaceport, which was largely undamaged.

Vette tried six times to get the hatch open. “You didn’t change the code, did you?”

Xhareen shook her head. Toovee was no help, either.

“I ran 62 separate diagnostics, Master. All ship functions are nominal. Please, don’t deactivate me!”

Vette sighed. “I have no idea. Maybe a power surge? We’ll have to wait for an engineer to fix it.”

Xhareen looked around. She could see an Imperial officer barking orders at the engineering and medical crews that had just arrived. He was facing in the other direction and Xhareen felt a momentary twinge of shame for noticing that his tight-cut uniform showed off a backside that belonged on a statue in a museum. Or dancing in a Hutt cantina.

She walked up to him, suddenly aware her ears were ringing and her head was throbbing. “Pardon me, officer …” she began before she was confronted by eyes so blue they had to be genetically modified.

She tried to continue. “My ship. The door … broken.”

The officer sized her up quickly, saw the lightsabers and gray and dark red Korribani uniform jacket she was wearing. “My lord, are you injured?” He began scanning her.

“No … lieutenant?” That didn’t seem right. He was handsome in a way that takes men years to achieve, and he carried himself with an air of authority at least befitting a major.

“Your speech is slurred. Have you hit your head?” he asked with a gentle, sincere sense of concern.

She stood up and straightened her jacket. “I assure you, I’m fine. I cannot access my ship. There’s no external damage, as we are on the far side of the spaceport. My colleague thinks a power surge has damaged it.”

He bowed, and his cheeks flushed slightly. “Apologies, my lord. Your ship has not been damaged. That’s standard procedure after a rebel attack. The spaceport is on lockdown. If I may, could I get your name, my lord?”

She couldn’t quite process the man who, a minute ago, was ordering everyone around with this almost-fawning attendant.  _Almost_ , she noted. There was something about this overaged lieutenant in his painted-on uniform that spoke of a defiance in his core.

“It’s Xhareen Nah-garesh. And you are?”

He bowed. “My name is Lt. Malavai Quinn. And you are Darth Baras’s apprentice. I am to be your liaison here on Balmorra.”


	9. Anagapesis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Anagapesis**  -  _The feeling when one no longer loves someone they once did._
> 
> (totally an AU, written long before KOTFE was announced; originally, Quinn was here to ask Xhareen to help him rescue his sister, who had been kidnapped by persons unknown.)

 

Jaesa entered Xhareen’s study, still dripping from the rain outside. “I know you know he’s here again. I know you can still sense him,” she said.

“I don’t know who or what you mean, Lord Willsaam,” Xhareen replied, not turning her back from the window as she addressed her second in command, now a full Sith Warrior and no longer her apprentice.

“Bantha shit,” Jaesa said, laughing. “Quinn’s flagship just returned from the Khar Delba system. You can’t avoid him forever.” 

But she had. For three years. It only felt like forever. 

It had been three years and then some since she dropped him off at the Kaas City spaceport, broken and battered after his betrayal, quietly but officially dismissed from Sith service. They’d never bothered to annul their marriage, but they lived completely apart. 

Xhareen remained attached to the Dark Council as the Emperor’s Wrath. The Hand had disappeared after Baras’s death and Xhareen figured Marr kept her close just in case whatever plots and ploys they were working on came to light. 

Col. Malavai Quinn had made a name of his own winning battles with the fewest casualties and clever strategic and tactical plays that left the Republic in disarray. Darth Marr, perhaps trying to prompt a reconciliation to keep the Wrath focused on domestic matters, had promoted Quinn rapidly. There was talk he was in line to head the Imperial Military Academy after the end of the current academic year, which would keep him on the homeworld permanently. 

Quinn made occasional trips to Xhareen’s stronghold on the outskirts of Kaas City to keep up appearances. She would leave via secret tunnels so that he could have the place to himself. She had not even seen him in person in more than a year, and even that was just a glance in his direction at an official Imperial function. 

“If he means to visit, he will contact Toovee. He could very well just be on the planet for military business. I am not going to go chasing him down. We are too far past that.” 

“That’s a lie, and you know it, Master.” Jaesa often resorted to the old arrangement, and Xhareen’s old title, when it served her for making a point. She’d become as good at verbal sparring as she was with a lightsaber. 

Xhareen wished she could bring herself to be as optimistic as her friend. Quinn had chosen loyalty to Baras’s failed version of the Empire over her and he could not be forgiven. 

But he could not be forgotten, either. Xhareen let her still-raw rage flow over her, igniting the air around her and turning it red with her fury. 

“If you didn’t still have feelings for him, Xhareen, he wouldn’t enrage you. There are plenty of loveless marriages on Dromund Kaas. Yours is not one of them.” 

“Irrelevant. Whatever I’m feeling, it’s not the love I want or need.” 

Her rage abated but she said no more. Jaesa let herself out of the study. 

The rain kept pouring down.


	10. Strikhedonia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Strikhedonia** \- _The pleasure of being able to say “to hell with it”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One Word Prompts. Also slightly NSFW

The quiet was almost deafening. Xhareen stood in the lounge area and took a breath of the absolutely quiet air around her. 

Everyone had left the ship – everyone but her and Quinn, that is. Pierce and Broonmark had gone fishing, though only Pierce took a fishing rig. Vette and Jaesa had gone to find a restaurant and spa. “Don’t you kids dare dent the alluvial damper while we’re gone,” Vette had called on her way out.

It’s not like she and Quinn needed an empty ship to have quality alone time. The cabin doors locked, and no one really wanted to bother them anyway. The worst reaction they ever got was some heavy eye-rolling.

But there was something special about having the ship to themselves. 

Xhareen went to her cabin first, to change into her silk dressing robe. She enjoyed dropping her clothes for her lover’s pleasure, for sure, but sometimes, simplicity was best. Then she went to Quinn’s cabin, expecting he’d be there waiting. 

His cabin was empty, including the ‘fresher. He hadn’t left the ship, where could he be?

Xhareen went to the bridge. She saw the cap before anything else, before he turned the command chair and sat there before her, otherwise completely nude and ready for action. 

“You’re sure, Malavai? You know Vette, she could have forgotten something and she’ll turn around and be right back.”

“I have accounted for that possibility, my lord. Unless it is a medical or other verifiable emergency, no one will be able to enter for the next four hours. And after we finish our tour of the bridge, and the lounge area, we can adjourn to one of our cabins where it won’t matter who is traipsing about the ship. Or not.”

Xhareen dropped her robe on the floor. “To hell with it,” she declared, and nearly leapt onto a very ready Quinn.


	11. Truth or Dare

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Use RNG and result is applied to your active inventory or storage. Write drabble about the item in that slot. 
> 
> Alcohol might or might not have been a factor. For the crew, that is.

Quinn was beginning to wonder if his decision to participate in voluntary crew socialization time had been prudent. Vette insisted on random drawing the pairs for this game and though Quinn had been fortunate so far to have missed being picked, he figured his luck would run out soon enough. 

She practically cackled as she pulled the next two names out of the box. “Xhareen, you and Quinn.”

“Dare,” Quinn said immediately.

“No fair!” Xhareen complained. “I didn’t even get to ask the question!” 

“Nevertheless, my lord, you have only two options to give me and that is the one I choose.” Given the nature of the questions being asked, he figured anything short of being forced to do a spacewalk without benefit of an EVA suit would be the safest way to go. 

“OK, Captain,” Xhareen said. “If you’re afraid of my questions, then you have to do this. If you fail, I get to ask you anything I  want.” Xhareen stood and performed a flawless one-handed handstand and held it for 15 seconds. 

Suddenly, the spacewalk seemed a better idea. “You’re only doing this because I choose to relax in my uniform,” Quinn said.

“Feel free to take it off,” she replied.

He was tempted. Why was he tempted? Was this really just synthohol they were consuming? 

Quinn stood up and moved to the center of the room. He quickly calculated that, if anything failed, it would be his jacket and he really didn’t want to trust the fabricators or Toovee to fix it again. So he removed it and his belt, as Vette and Jaesa began to whistle and  “whoot” provocatively. 

He was reasonably certain there were regulations against “whooting” in the military code of conduct but suddenly, he was unable to remember where. 

Despite his best efforts at remaining calm, Quinn blushed profusely. Xhareen just took a long drink from her cup and smiled. Pierce turned his head and might have grumbled something about joining Broonmark in the cargo bay. The girls were beginning to sing a popular dance toon. 

Nevertheless, he was able to perform as requested. Though he noted he could not have looked nearly as graceful as Xhareen when she did it. 

As he was putting his jacket back on, to the verbal disappointment of Vette and Jaesa, he asked Xhareen, “So, my lord, was that to your satisfaction?”

And he blushed again as she said, “Captain, you have no idea!”

He prayed there was no Round 2. And took another drink. 


	12. Can I Offer You a Drink?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This was the result of a prompt challenge, and there were two that seemed to go well together: "What can I do to make it up to you?" and "Can I offer you a drink?" – 
> 
> Set in my Imperial Coffee Shop AU, a description of which you can find at: http://archiveofourown.org/works/6764581

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Xhareen Nah-garesh is the shop owner whose indie coffee shop, Coffee Furious, in a trendy Kaas City neighborhood was just bought out by Starbucks, the Eternal Corporate Empire. Quinn is an accountant with a secret who has been tasked with going over the books of the newly acquired properties. Vette is a hacker who works as a barista and is Xhareen’s bff and business partner.

After the third pull and the third spill and the third burned finger, Xhareen stopped and started counting to 10.

“You’re getting distraaaaacted,” Vette observed in her sing-songy voice she seemed to reserve solely for mocking her best friend. She took over the monstrous machine and quickly filled the waiting customer’s order.

“Thank you, Captain Obvious,” Xhareen shot back and instantly regretted it. “Sorry, Vette, you’re right. But look at him. He’s beautiful. All the DK hipsters that come in here, even after we sold out to Starbucks. They just look so … typical. Like a flock of flutterplumes but less intelligent. But him …”

“It’s the fourth time this week, and all he orders is water and biscuits. Sits there with his datapads, eating up our bandwidth and biscuits.”

“But at least I have wonderful biscuits, right?” She nudged Vette with her elbow.

“Yeah, more than a few of those hipsters keep showing up for your biscuits, boss.”

Xhareen smiled and raised her eyebrows above her red-rimmed eyeshades. She didn’t necessarily hide that she was Miralukan; the wars had forced the Empire to admit there were more than two races of free people in the galaxy. She just got tired of explaining her lack of eyes to people most days. She’d gambled the rest of the money she had left after an injury ended her wrestling career on this shop, hoping to make enough for implants or at least a cybernetic visor.

But that dream had died after the Eternal Empire subjugated the planet, chasing off all the strong Sith, defanging the military and leaving a billion survivors at the mercy of the galactic corporations. She just looked like one of her trendy customers, so she let them think what they would.

She noticed that the handsome customer’s plate was empty, although she was perplexed as to how he’d managed to eat her biscuits without leaving a single crumb behind.

“Vette, have you ever offered him one of Jaesa’s pastries?” Xhareen had hired the young refugee with the incomparable baking skills right before she had to sell out; a few lessons from Xhareen on Imperial ingredients and equipment, and you would have thought the girl had studied in one of the patisseries near the city’s famous opera house, or interned in a wealthy Sith household.

“Nope. He doesn’t seem like the type you waste your time on trying to upsell him.”

Normally, Xhareen trusted Vette’s people instincts above anyone else’s, but something about this man made her think that all you needed to do to reach him was to try. She went over to Jaesa’s station, and saw to her great delight that she’d just finished a batch of muja fruit wompa claws.  _Let’s see him eat that without making a mess,_  she thought with a smirk.

She plated the confection, grabbed a napkin, and carried it over to where the man was sitting, completely engrossed in the datapad in his hand. But she was so engrossed in him, she completely overlooked the vibromop making its rounds under the table next to his.

Even though she’d spent most of her life learning to fall with grace and style, she tumbled inelegantly into the man, pastry first, smearing his immaculate suit sleeve with the sticky green fruit filling.

He jumped out of his seat, tossing the datapad to the floor. Xhareen righted herself, gathered the datapad for him and apologized at least a dozen times in 10 seconds or less.

Vette was there almost immediately, with some hot damp towels. He thanked her and took the towels, cleaning the muja fruit goo off his suit entirely in one pass. Clearly, he must be rather wealthy to afford cloth made of such stain-resistant material.

Still, Xhareen felt terrible in addition to foolish. “What can I do to make it up to you? Can I offer you a drink?”

“You appear to have left my water undisturbed, Miss …”

“Xhareen, and I was thinking of something other than water.”

He nodded. “Yes, I suppose it’s time I try the caff here, even if I’m no fan of the drink. But as I know you’re the shop owner, I can at least surmise you’ll make a passable version of the drink for me.”

Xhareen tried to process whether he was being insulting or just rejecting what she had hoped he’d take as an offer to go somewhere else. “Sure,” she said, not sure at all. “I’ll be right back.”

He bowed his head slightly. “My appreciation. For the record, my name is Malavai Quinn, and I will be your accountant from here on out.”


	13. No Clone Left Unturned

**On the 4 th Moon of Yavin**

**At the private shuttle landing near Xhareen’s camp**

Xhareen rushed into the clearing, not sure what the message urging her to get back to the camp meant. She saw the shiny profile of Zavaa’s bespoke ship, the Phantom, and hoped it was just her old friend coming through on her promise of more help for the fight against Revan and his followers.

She went to the intel center Vette had set up to process any information they didn’t want the rest of the coalition to access. She saw Zavaa and two other people, both human, but as she approached, she thought her visor was suddenly not working properly.

There was another woman, short, and brown-skinned and muscular like Xhareen standing next to a tall man with Kaasi pale skin. He turned to face her, and Xhareen gasped.

“What in the six hells!” Xhareen shrieked.

Zavaa started to giggle. “I thought you might like him.”

Xhareen knew who he wasn’t, but now she was intrigued as to who he was. “He could come in handy. As target practice for the next time I get betrayed.”

Zavaa and Xhareen both started to laugh. Xhareen whipped out her mainhand lightsaber and began to circle the target.

He pulled at his collar, loosening the stay. “Um, Cipher, you need to explain some things to me. Now would be a good time.”

“They botched the voice at least,” Xhareen growled.

“Who is they?” the man, now visibly sweating, said. But then he pulled back. “Hey, I’m told my voice is quite alluring.”

Xhareen shrugged. “His legs are thinner,” she said, walking around behind him. “And this backside, totally unacceptable!”

“Listen, my lord, I know you’re Sith and everything, but can I at least ask why I am being examined like a piece of meat?”

Xhareen smiled, but said nothing.

“Cipher?”

Zavaa, nearly doubled over with laughter, waved her hand in the air. The other woman stood still, almost at attention, and kept quiet. 

“It’s a good thing you hid him from me, Zavaa,” Xhareen said. “But you should have warned him.”

In between gasps for air, Zavaa said, “No, this was totally worth it.”

Xhareen put her lightsaber back on her belt. “Where did you find him?”

The other woman spoke up. “Raina Temple, my lord. If I may explain. He was a stray after Intelligence fell. I picked him up on Hoth.”

“You have excellent taste, except perhaps for backsides.”

Raina started to laugh now, too. “Damn, I was trying to hold out. Guess I need more training.”

The man eased his stance and stared at Zavaa. “You told Raina but not me? Will somebody please tell me what’s going on?”

Xhareen pulled her holo off her belt. “It’s best to show you.” When Vette’s image materialized, she said, “Vette, please tell Major Quinn to meet me at our camp immediately.”

A few minutes later, Quinn landed his speeder near the camp. As he removed his goggles, his blue eyes went wide. The other man’s did, too.

Quinn came up to where the man was and faced him. It was like looking at a mirror projection.

He barely noticed that there were three women standing there, laughing so hard they disturbed a handful of birds out of a nearby tree.

When she could finally speak, Zavaa said, “Major Malavai Quinn, meet Retton Collyns.”

“Unless you already have because he’s some long lost relative,” Xhareen said.

“Well, I, um, I don’t recall any relatives with that surname, my lord. Unless my father …” A look of horror crossed his face. “No …”

“Don’t fret, Quinn,” Zavaa said. “This is a complete joke on all of us by the Maker. SCORPIO ran a genetics test, using samples of yours Dr. Lokin had in the ship’s databanks. You are no more related than any two Kaasian natives.”

Retton started to laugh now, too. Quinn relaxed a bit as Xhareen came up next to him and slid under his arm.

“I’ll keep the original,” she said.

Xhareen’s holo beeped. It was Vette. Another meeting.

“Time to get back to it,” Zavaa said.

For a fleeting moment, everything was still, even the constant trilling of the insects, the singing birds and the ever-swaying flora. In later years, Xhareen would remember this moment as the last time she felt at home in the Empire.

 

The Spaces In Between, an epic retelling of the Sith Warrior story from Corellia to Ziost, can be found [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4757990).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was planned to be a part of the Yavin arc of my now completed longfic, The Spaces In Between, but it didn’t fit tonally or structurally. But since I adore Quinn clones in game, I had to write something about my very first Quinn clone, former Intelligence agent and crackshot sniper Retton. It features my SW Xhareen and my main IA, Zavaa. And of course, two dorks with a special bond. 


	14. The Other Outlander

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A popular "what if" prompt on Tumblr's #swtor community: What if your love interest was the Outlander, the one frozen in carbonite, and your OC is the one left behind. What letter would you write to them?

To: Malavai Quinn

From: Your wife

 

Darling,

I know you’re out there. I know you know I know you’re out there. I know I’m starting to sound like Vette.

We all miss you, but that’s not what you need to hear right now.

When I saw Darth Marr’s ship explode, I knew you weren’t on it. We saw hundreds of escape pods. We rescued as many as we could. I searched each one for your face, for any sign of you. But I knew you wouldn’t be there.

You have another story to be told.

I stayed on Dromund Kaas only as long as needed to get our properties in the hands of people the new regime wouldn’t bother. I made sure your family was safe and forgotten, too. Then I formally resigned my title as Empire’s Wrath and left for Tatooine.

Broonmark is still with me, as always. I am not able to fight openly, as I want to do. So I have become a conduit for those who can take more direct action. Vette has taken to calling the Tatooine home “The Other Citadel” and visits often. Jaesa has joined up with other Force users, both Jedi and Sith, to unravel the mysteries of how Vitiate became Valkorion. Although you killed him, there are still ripples in the Force and she is chasing them.

Pierce took a posting he hates on Dromund Kaas to feed us whatever intel he can get and to send promising recruits to the various rebel factions that have emerged. Recruits who will be ready for you when your moment comes.

All of our troubles, all of our victories, all of the things we did together weren’t because you were there to support me, my love. They happened to prepare you for your time in the starring role.

Wherever you are, be it Arcann’s prison, or holed up with Zakuulan rebels or Maker knows where, you are there to change the galaxy. You are the Outlander.

And as soon as I get the call, I will be by your side. I will make the galaxy spin backward if I have to. 

I love you always.   

 

Xhareen


	15. My Lord, Um, My Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> aka, "36 Questions to fall in love." Takes place right after the canon companion scene where Quinn says, sort of, that he loves the Sith Warrior

 Xhareen sat back in her chair, stuffed from the giant dinner Quinn had spread out on the table in his quarters. _So that’s why he asked to be relieved from duty early_ , she realized. He really wasn’t trying to avoid her after the morning’s awkward encounter.

She knew he’d been studying how to cook, not just to supplement what Toovee could produce, but in case they had to abandon the ship for some planet-side hiding place where a robot chef might not be so useful. He’d gotten quite good at it, too.

Of course, he already knew all the foods she especially liked, had calculated her precise caloric needs depending on the day’s activity, prepared more than enough for the both of them, and beamed at every compliment. She had always loved his attention to detail, even more so now when it was directed toward her personally. And it was reasonably close to delicious, too.

They’d chatted about trivial matters during the meal, their earlier conversation on the bridge circling around them like an invisible rope, waiting to be yanked to lasso them in. Still, it was a pleasant way to pass time, and she never wanted to neglect these little moments that were so hard won.

As Xhareen contemplated whether she needed to unlatch her belt, Quinn cleared his throat and pulled out a datapad and cleared his throat again. 

“My lord, I mean, my lov .., um, Xhareen, there are some questions I’d like to ask you. Of a personal nature.”

She leaned forward, reaching over the table and grasping his hand. “Of course, Malavai. I have nothing to hide from you now.”

“Well, I don’t think any of these questions are of a mission-critical nature. It’s more of a … quiz if you will.”

She extended her hand toward the datapad and motioned for him to give it to her. He sighed and relented.

She read the title bar: “ _36 Questions to Fall in Love_.” It had been all over the holonet. Vette had read it aloud in the lounge the day before, coming up with progressively sillier answers as the quiz went on. At the end, she and Jaesa attempted to stare at each other for two minutes or some nonsense, but lasted barely 20 seconds. Pierce was crying he laughed so hard and Xhareen was certain she’d snorted a dozen times in a decidedly un-Sith-like manner.

Now suddenly, the stupid quiz wasn’t funny.

“So, we need questions to do that? I guess this morning’s conversation wasn’t what I thought it was. We never actually said the words, did we?” She tossed the pad back on the table a little harder than she’d intended to.

Quinn picked the pad up and gave it the once over, inspecting it for damage. “It was a bit awkward, being on the bridge as we were. Not exactly the scenario I’d envisioned.”

She didn’t put it past him to have had the entire scene scripted out in his head. “What scenario did you envision exactly?”

To his credit, Quinn knew when he could ignore the rising anger in her voice and when to run for cover. He wisely chose the former. “I hadn’t really planned it out. I suppose I would have started with a romantic dinner.”

She realized he hadn’t planned out their sideways declaration of love that morning. She probably caught him mulling it over, though. Then she’d teased him, knowing something was on his mind, and he blurted out his feelings for her, surprising both of them. He went back to his duties, but she’d spent the whole day unraveling every word he’d said to her. But all was forgiven when she saw the full table of food.

She laughed and waved her hand across the table. “Like this, maybe?”

“I guess it is a bit more dramatic than most of our meals, isn’t it? It makes me happy when you’re satisfied. I suppose I felt I left you less than satisfied with this morning’s conversation.”  

She wondered briefly if he had, however, scripted the “lost puppy face” he was wearing now. One of the many mysteries of Quinn she’d encountered these past months was that the more adult the emotional context of the conversation, the more he looked like a boy during it.

Still, Xhareen wasn’t going to let the man off the hook. She stood up, walked over next to him and started to remove her clothes. “Your cooking is fantastic, and I’m too stuffed to even attempt sex at the moment, but let’s get naked, lie on the bed, and you can quiz me as you see fit.”

He stood up from the chair and slid his arms around her waist just as she was starting to unbutton her blouse.  She stared into his infinite blue eyes for a moment, wanting nothing more than to just forget words ever existed, that anything ever existed except his hands on her. But a bridge had been reached, and it must be crossed. “But first, let me say what it is we need to say. Malavai Quinn, I …”

Quinn gently placed his finger on her lips. “No, I should be the first to say it. I started this.”

She nodded. “Indeed you did.”

He bent down and kissed her on the forehead. “I love you, Xhareen. You are my love, but you are still my lord. I feel no need to separate the two. I hope that’s OK.”

She wanted to scream at him:  _“We can make this work, silly. All your fear does is make you do stupid things. If you could just stop worrying, things would work out fine!_ ”

But there would be time for that discussion later. Now, she had to say what was on her heart, the words he needed to hear:

“I love you, Malavai Quinn, and you will always be my captain.”

  _[It would be many years before they both realized the vast implications of that pronouncement.]_


	16. Worked Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> From a Tumblr prompt: What is your muse’s least favorite thing about their appearance? And then a subsequent request for Quinn's perspective.
> 
> Content warning for body image issues.

Xhareen pulled her workout top down first, then back up again. While this new crop top showed off her well-carved abdomen, and the snug leotard did right by her curvy backside, it made her boobs look even smaller.  _How was that even possible?_  

She’d never thought much about her body; most of her insecurities from her youth were about her visor and her lack of eyes. It didn’t take her long to convince her tormentors that calling her “screenface” wasn’t going to bother her and that she was going to defeat them in the fighting ring no matter what. Whether it was while she was still under Darth Neveris’ care, or training for the Hutt fighting pits, or training with Overseer Tremel, they always had to fight her and they always got to lose. 

And yet, she had been surprisingly unembarrassed when Quinn had taken her visor off to tend to a cut on the side of her head when she was struck by shrapnel from an explosion on Nar Shaddaa. There hadn’t been time for her to swap out her tribal eyewraps first. He’d been so clinical, and so careful about preventing a scar, that she wasn’t even ashamed anymore. It was a victory on several fronts for her self-esteem. And his touch had been so gentle … 

But now that he had seemingly started syncing his own workouts with hers, she’d become painfully aware of her petite breasts, especially when she thought about how large his hands were. 

She vowed to ignore that useless line of thinking and get back to her workout. She smacked herself in the head with the foam cudgel and spat out “Stupid, stupid, stupid.” 

And of course, Quinn chose that moment to enter the workout room. 

The next day, she wore the drabbest, loosest, old shirt she could find.

 

~~~~~

Quinn noticed immediately that something was wrong. He had to admit, there were days he forgot he was serving with a Sith, as horrifying a thought as that was to him. But Xhareen  _was_ different from other Sith – approachable, personable, among many other qualities – and she had never taken that remark as an insult, which pleased Quinn more than he thought wise. 

He had come in for his morning workout yesterday to find Xhareen smacking herself in the face with the foam cudgel, which she only had on board, she said, because she had wanted to train Vette how to fight. The only time Quinn had seen Vette use one was when she and Xhareen had overindulged in some illicit liquor and they proceeded to “spar” in the lounge with much loud laughter. 

Quinn was annoyed at first, but as he quietly snuck out of the hallway and back to his quarters, he found himself smiling. He couldn’t even figure out why. Maybe he missed his sisters. He hadn’t seen them in 12 years. Rissa was still a teenager when he deployed on what would turn out to be his last tour before Druckenwell; she’d be about Xhareen’s age now. 

Fortunately, either they or the ship’s droid had cleaned up the inevitable damage before Quinn woke up the next morning. 

He had begun to time his workouts to coincide with the latter half of Xhareen’s because watching her go through her forms and routines inspired him to push himself harder. He wanted to be the one she could rely on to spar with, but even if she wore her cortosis sleeves and leggings to suppress her Force powers, she was still far better than he was. An honest man could admit that. A smart man could learn from her. 

But he was also a weak man, and he had to admit, it excited him to watch her move. It confused him, too, because this excitement also pushed him to work harder. 

So when he saw she was wearing an oversized shirt instead of her usual form-fitting, and occasionally skimpy, garb, and that it was interfering with many of her moves, he became concerned. Was she covering up the damage from some mishap? Was that why she was berating herself yesterday? Was she in pain and if so, why hadn’t she consulted him? 

She relied on him for his knowledge and his insight. It would be remiss, he told himself, if he said nothing and she hurt herself again. 

“My lord,” he said as she stepped toward the punching dummy, “have you injured yourself? I couldn’t help but notice your choice of attire. It’s not exactly ideal for the intensity of your routine.”

She stopped and glared at him for a brief second. A series of sudden thoughts panicked him: Had he overstepped? What if this had something to do with her monthly cycles? Did Miraluka have monthly cycles? Why hadn’t he determined that already? What was it about her that threw him off his normal discipline? 

“The top I wore yesterday was … uncomfortable. I didn’t think to have Toovee replicate something else, and this was all I had,” she said. He noted that she turned her face ever so slightly toward her main hand and her smile seemed forced. 

He might be off his game when determining her physical needs, but he was getting better and better at reading her face. She didn’t need eyes to indicate her emotions; her face was the most expressive piece of biological engineering he’d ever encountered, in addition to being most pleasing to look at. 

But what she had just said was a lie, and she was uncomfortable. It was his fault. He had to find some way to help them both save face. 

“If it would help, I could program the Imperial uniform supply catalog into the ship’s fabricators if the data are not there already. I believe you would find several garments much better suited for your … body type and … physical abilities that could be easily replicated with the supplies we have on board.”

She looked down at her feet first and then smiled, turning her face back up toward him. “Thank you, Captain. That would be most helpful.” She seemed abnormally subdued.

Then she excused herself, saying she would be back later to finish her workout. She picked up the hem of the loose shirt and tied it in a knot at her waist. It bloused over slightly. Maybe still not ideal for working out, but it was a much nicer look. 

“Does your Imperial uniform supply catalog have something like this?” she asked, and if he did not know better, Quinn would have thought she was toying with him now. Or maybe she was. That part of their interactions still eluded him, even if she had stopped outright flirting with him. 

He cleared his throat. “Search under ‘martial training gear.’ If it’s anywhere, it will be there.”

She nodded and turned to leave. Having pulled the offending shirt up, her skin-tight leggings were now fully visible up to her waist. 

Quinn couldn’t help noticing what a nice image that was. He began his own warmup routine with a smile on his face he couldn’t contain. Nor did he want to. 

~~~~~

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Headcanons: Cortosis suppresses Force abilities, blah blah magic/blah blah science. Force users wear garments to suppress their abilities to train their muscles. And Miraluka do not have menstrual cycles.) 


	17. The Curse of History

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set on Zakuul in some post-KOTET future where my SW Xhareen and her husband Malavai Quinn have settled down, Xhareen as a minister in Zakuul’s fledgling self-government and Quinn as commandant of the military academy. Based very loosely on a Tumblr prompt, with h/t to @sifaseven for sharing it.

PUBLIC SERVICE ANNOUNCEMENT: Heavens protect us from ugly cravats. Unless it's [boss-level trolling like this. ](https://www.vam.ac.uk/blog/museum-life/out-on-display-3-the-scandalous-collectors)

 

 

 

“OH MY STARS!”

Xhareen shouted so loudly, Quinn nearly stabbed his throat with the pin he was holding in his hand.

“What’s wrong, my darling?” he said as he ran over to her.

She poked at the ancient cravat around his neck.  _Well, he wasn’t expecting to hide it from her forever_.

It was, he had to admit, hideous. Slightly frayed, the color faded to some hue he was sure even the Zakuulans had no word for. He’d hoped the pin he was attempting to secure it with would be enough of a distraction. He was wrong.

“What is that thing around your neck, Malavai? Should I get out my lightsaber and kill it for you?”

He snorted, then he sighed. “It’s a family heirloom. Generations old. Mother brought it with her for me to keep here, and I thought I should at least wear it once. Her mother gave it to me and when I packed up our belongings from Dromund Kass, I must have forgotten to bring it with …”

Xhareen began to unwind the contraption from around his throat. “You’ve never forgotten to pack anything in your life. Now, I have a compromise. How about I have Indo get one of the tailors to, I don’t know, work on it. Maybe sew it onto some other more suitable fabric. Bits of it, anyway.”

“It won’t be the same,” he said. “Mother would be disappointed.”

Xhareen worked the scarf off his neck and held the folded fabric in her hands. “Kayda’s got a son now, maybe you could pass it directly to him? Maybe by the time he’s old enough to wear it, it will be fashionable again?”

They both laughed. They knew that would never happen. “I didn’t mean to suggest waiting until she dies, I hope you know that,” Xhareen confessed.

“Maybe we could tell Mother you discovered it’s imbued with Force power so strong and dangerous, it needs to be kept in a holocron in a vault,” he said, only slightly joking.

“You know, there’s an exhibition planned of Republic and Imperial memorabilia at the Spire Gallery next month. I’m sure we could have it included in its proper … context … as a display,” Xhareen said. “We can even include your mother on the plaque thanking all the donors.”

Quinn leaned in and kissed her on the forehead. “You’ve become quite the politician, my love,” he whispered.

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“Good, as that is how it was meant. Now, do you think anyone would mind if we set tonight’s dinner as semi-formal instead?”


	18. Don't Hate Him Because He's Beautiful

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> From a Tumblr prompt: Do you think Quinn has soft hands?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Chapter 5](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7789777) from my unfinished KOTFE-KOTET rewrite, A Most Welcome Turn of Events, has some relevant background.

Xhareen & Quinn quickly settled into a routine when there weren’t missions: Get up early every morning, watch the sun rise if weather permitted, eat in the mess hall together and then go about their respective duties. So when she woke up one morning about three weeks after Quinn’s arrival on Odessen and he wasn’t in bed, she was immediately concerned. 

“Toovee, where is Major Quinn?” She couldn’t break the habit of using his rank, even though he had renounced it and occasionally seemed pained when she slipped and used it in public. 

“Master Quinn is in Logistics, Master,” the droid replied. 

Xhareen dressed hurriedly and barely noticed which of her HK droids ended up following her at a near run to the Logistics area of the base.  [A/N: She has both 51 and 55; they squabble about who gets the honor of guarding her, so she made them set up a schedule.]

The transport bay for Logistics – equally as large and twice as busy as the military hangar – buzzed with activity. A shipment must have arrived at the end of the night shift. 

She scanned the hangar and saw Quinn talking to Hylo. Although his position on the base was unique [and redacted; it’s a surprise I’ll reveal whenever I write up the rest of the expansion story!], he nominally reported to Logistics first thing after the morning military training exercises. 

Then she noticed he was cradling a small box and felt guilty now for spying on him. It must be a gift for her, and she didn’t want to ruin the surprise. She snuck out of the bay and walked back to their quarters. 

She decided to take a shower as though nothing unusual had happened. When she got out, Quinn sat down on the bed and furiously pushed the box underneath it with his foot.

“What’s going on, Malavai? You weren’t here when I got up.” At least that part was the truth. 

He hesitated for a minute – that golden minute when he would have concocted some cover story if he was trying to hide a surprise for her. So she didn’t feel bad calling him out on his subterfuge. 

“What were you kicking under the bed?” Did he really think he could hide anything from her? Would she never stop worrying about his secretive side?

He reached under the bed and pulled out the same box he’d been holding in Logistics. 

“This just arrived from Dromund Kaas.” He handed it to her. “I offered two free shifts covering for Hylo for it.”

She put it on the nightstand and sorted through the bottles and tubes. She laughed.Toiletries. Which she recognized from the precious short time they’d lived together on the ship, on Ziost and on Dromund Kaas. He was nothing if not brand loyal.

There was a tube of hair dye – the secret he’d confessed to on the ship after she found him on Balmorra – two tubes of shaving cream, which she joked was more for the relief of his poor razor than his face, and four small jars that she didn’t recognize. 

She picked one up and looked at him. 

“Hand cream. My hands have gotten so rough, I feel like I’m pawing you with sandpaper.”

She sat the jar down. “I like your rough hands, but since we’ve determined you’re as vain as a Hutt, I won’t begrudge you.”

She dropped the towel and sat down naked on his lap. “As long as you keep pawing me. That’s all I ask,” she purred. 

She leaned in for a kiss and when they parted, he said, “You know, darling, this would work on your feet. They’re also quite …”

She hopped off his lap and lay back on the bed. “If you’re unhappy with my feet, you’ll just have to be the one to fix them.”

He unbuttoned his jacket with a huge grin. “Good thing it’s raining out this morning then. I hope the Commander doesn’t mind if we’re late.”

“I’ll deal with her myself if it comes up.”


	19. Trepverter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Trepverter: a witty response or comeback you think of only after it’s too late to use.**

Quinn stormed into the small “health room” off the back kitchens in the west wing of House Thul. Xhareen was sitting on an exam table, joking with the medics as they brought her in. He had sent her back on the quickest shuttle available, and returned on his speeder by himself. He quickly dismissed the medics and took over examining Xhareen’s arm.

“My lord, you must be more careful. You cannot jeopardize your mission so foolishly,” he said, unwrapping the field dressing he’d applied after watch in horror as she got sliced with a vibroknife.

“Calm down, Quinn. It’s just a scratch,” she shot back, although she did wince when the bandage was removed. It was far worse than what her flippant remark would indicate.

He was not pleased. Not with her attitude, nor with her blatant disregard of his suggestions as they faced at least 15 ruffians from House Ulgo. She had ignored his assessment of the situation, and his suggestion that they sneak around to the south. Without warning him, she jumped and attacked them all, head on.

“Well, at least you didn’t say ‘it’s just a flesh wound’,” he snapped at her.

“What? That would be worse.”

Was she trying to get under his skin? Was it because he had said, after their ill-advised but much-enjoyed kiss last night, that he didn’t think a relationship between them was wise?

“That would be more flippant and that’s what I have tried to convince you is dangerous,” he said. “You must be more serious, my lord. Whether it’s in conversation or in battle.”

Did she really not get it? He thought she was getting better, more responsible, more like the leader she clearly was being groomed to be.

She squirmed as he gave her a kolto injection.

“What’s up with the  _my lord_  bit?” she retaliated. “I thought we were past that and you’d figured out my name by now. Didn’t realize you went around kissing strangers,  _Captain_.”

So, she was thinking about the kiss, too. His anger and frustration waned a bit; he truly did not want to hurt his remarkable Sith. But he wanted her to be careful. The thought of losing her …

“I say it when I’m trying not to be cross. I’m reminding myself how serious this is.”

_“How serious this is, my lord_ ,” she said, in a fairly good imitation of his voice.  

He threw down the empty kolto unit on the equipment stand. “I am doing my job, Xhareen. Is mockery really necessary?” 

She looked up at him with slackened cheeks and a slight, unintentional pout. He had started this verbal sortie and she had just admitted defeat. That should have improved his mood, but it did not.

“I’m sorry, Quinn. I honestly thought I could take them on. I have before.”

She wasn’t trying to egg him on, but he was still irked. He finished bandaging her up in silence.

When he was done, he asked, “Is there anything else? If not, then I take my leave and hope that you at least take my advice and get some rest.”

He was at the door when she said, softly, “I guess I just thought I can be a little  reckless, knowing I have the fleet’s best medic by my side.”

It was a compliment, a peace offering, but all he could do was nod once and leave.

As he walked down the hall, he started to turn back and inform her that if she took his  _entire_  job more seriously, she wouldn’t need a great medic.

He wanted to say it. But he didn’t.

And he knew exactly why.


End file.
